#upbringing
work,
sleep
work,
sleep,
work,
sleep,
work,
then work again
stuck in this digital timeline
the days never passed
it’s always on repeat
like time is a concubine
living with wealthy billionaires
working endlessly day and night
making her ends meet
so nobody will know what day it is
who will make this world a better place?
huh, the rich only care for themselves
we’re disillusioned to the fantasy that money
will fix everything in a flash
a bandage on a wound, as they say
but it leaves gaps and crevices
it will never be healed from the blood it leaves
the blood will always fall like rain on a wedding day
i am not a robot who will end up in a dumpster
if i am no use to everyone
if i am no use, what i am then?
a entertainer?
a maid?
a office worker?
a human?
who i am?
Apr 26, 2025
Apr 26, 2025 at 11:33 AM UTC
home is a cage
slide out the window
find a different way
run with the wolves
chase the child
it won't always be like this
ceramic heart
cosmic bruise
lovesick in a hotel wildfire
chemistry begins with
orbiting the moon
he calls her a river
swallowing down mistakes
she cares a little less about everything now
blood on the mattress
young blood
breaks in the sun
mean pure dark is yet to come
--nightly things
as long as she gets by
despite the crushing weight of gravity
she will take swan feathers
and wedding days to bed
but never take the blame
Mar 5, 2025
Mar 5, 2025 at 11:42 AM UTC
Today I hate you.
My blood boils thinking
of all the times you burnt me
with your words
your indifference
your disrespect
My hands get cold
with nervousness waiting
for a fight to break out
My eyes water
with shame
Because I remember
how you don't take responsability
how you put the blame on me
how we have always argued
how you demean my worth and feelings
how you shaped my reactions
my instincts
my image
to something I never wanted to be.
So, today I hate you.
Today I can't bring myself to forget.
We have nothing left to do
but wait for tomorrow.
Jan 2, 2021
Jan 2, 2021 at 8:31 AM UTC
It’s plastic bags & paper napkins that taught us left
from right.
Saying grace at dinner but not in prayers.
Teaching wholeness & caring words through these paper napkins,
can't you see,
your words were too light.
Nothing seeped through.
We could spend days wading in rivers or
Driving through fields.
Catching the sun turnover,
shadows of trees hitting your face,
Light, dark, light, dark.
The smell of dirt soaking through your skin.
We had all of this time.
But we never had the chance to learn anything that would fall through your paper plate,
And hit your heart.
Nothing that would turn the moon on its back.
I feel so sorry.
Now we’re all too heavy to catch the sun.
Jul 12, 2020
Jul 12, 2020 at 5:12 PM UTC
My body craves it, but I don’t want it
Every time I think of it, I sense the bile in my throat
Don’t give in.
“I love the feeling, the burning.”
Can’t you tell? I’ve been raised like this
Indulging in the emptiness
Nothingness.
Eat.
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 6:32 PM UTC
By birth most knew
This name of stern
As mentors too
Some take this turn
Few tamed in domicile
Less in passive right
Age takes this notice
Not wisdom nor sight
Whose care can nurture
Great strength in a foal?
To yield such future
Mere presence can scold
With great hope so few
Enjoy this manly art
That horses will march
Long after they depart
I await this fortune
Time takes my reign
My worships in court
Years cannot regain
How will my horses march
On life's steeple chase
Without their father's hold
From this their tender age?
Nov 3, 2019
Nov 3, 2019 at 10:42 PM UTC
My childhood,
My whole upbringing,
All the things that I've done
And all of whom I have met;
Everything I have seen
In my homeland and overseas;
Every wasted thought,
Stories I have kept to myself,
Words I have shared in vain...
Such a quantity of inputs,
From ears, eyes and touch;
So much thought invested
Trying to uncover new paths;
All this pain for all this time,
All the joys that last a while;
They amount to just a few...
A few more clever taps
On top of the screen
Of an electronic pad.
Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 1:04 PM UTC
Born with a silver spoon
And ate from a golden plate
Born with a wooden spoon
And ate from a plastic plate
Your upbringing is not the main determinant that you will be great
Of course, it does go a long way
But it doesn't have the final say
Every person still has a price to pay!
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 7:57 AM UTC
While meditating earlier today,
a flashback leapt
clear for me to assay,
those ever receding
early boyhood daze,
now subsumed within fifty,
plus nine shades of gray
blissfully innocent naivety,
(though blessed) no way
would, aye desire to turn back
the hands of father time (hypothetically),
where unstructured play
regularly with older sister
(thirteen plus months
my senior) predominantly
slicing, sliding, and slipping
stockinged feet skittering
across slippery basement floor,
this then soul full
skinny thing bellowed hooray.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I'm Matty Mattel; I got hurt;
Can you go out?"
Those words uttered
by the very first
pull-string talking doll
Mattel did tout
circa nineteen sixty
revolutionizing the birth
of quasi simulated (lifelike) toys,
and made of common
materials found scout
ting around the house simply comprising
hard vinyl (i.e. pseudo
plaster of Paris) head he did flout
with remaining body
stuffed with padding,
a definite no
no (chew toy) when Fido about.
Actually that pooch,
would be Georgie to you,
(a hybrid Boxer Dalmatian)
with docked tail
my young parents acquired,
when as a newborn,
aye did inconsolably wail
though recollection of such memory
fifty nine years ago tis of no avail
yet, a resumption of meditation,
sans lightness of being
(analogous trancelike state),
that doth prevail
replaying silent film preceding,
when psyche seem so frail
plummeting into emotional abyss
the nadir i.e. anorexia nervosa
pleading return to nostalgic boyhood
decrying change hide didst bewail!
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 1:30 AM UTC
I saw all hours
Day and night.
You kept me up,
Brought me up to fight.
Worked me and worked me
'Till I fell
Then dragged me up
And gave me hell.
From a child
You dragged me down.
Told me to fight back -
To win the crown.
Made me build my walls
Like you, impregnable.
You took me to town
And showed me around
And said
GO CONQUER IT ALL!
You told me to ignore
The tears on my face.
Get up and fight on;
Spit the blood you taste.
Broken bones are trophies,
Bruises are victory.
Wear them proud
Among the crowd
LOOK HOW STRONG YOU WILL BE.
I cant be broken apart anymore
I am indestructible
You broke me to make me
You shook me to shape me
And it paid off
I'm indestructible.
I'M INDESTRUCTIBLE.
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
I am nothing without this thing called spell check
I have nothing on many of yours education
and many of yours upbringing
and I envy most of your elegance
but I will continue to speak from my heart
hoping you hear me, and hoping you do the same
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 3:39 AM UTC
Wilt my lungs
I’ll breathe in bitter bloom
And fill my chest with concrete tombs
At twenty one I exhaled tar
And covered my birthday cake
Ribs for the skyline
This city built a church round my heart
Before some gutter punks spray painted the side of the stained glass
With the suicide rates of middle-class citizens
Nothing has been the same since
When I was young
I was raised on Disney
And taught that my bones were living things
At thirteen years old
I nestled a heart within the clouds and smoke of my chest
It suffocated to death
I’ve never broken a bone
But I’ve trailed plenty of marrow
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 11:09 AM UTC
Bright and cavalier
You wring out your neck
With heavy hands
Show me a tongue without an anchor
Glistening eyes without glamour
Are you filled empty
With crowd mentality?
Your swell of bitter laughter
Is cruelty incandescent as fire
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
So all rights and homage belong to god,
But who would want this body after they've left it to rot.
I've got a wicked set of morals,
And the baggage to match,
So before he cut the call the devil stated, "What a catch."
Rip the nails from your hands and hop off the cross,
We could use the wood.
Choke down your pride you ******* product with a cost,
A martyrs blood's a wasted good.
I can't keep the plug in the jug,
At least you can keep the change.
You can have the family love,
I'd rather trade it for the chains.
Does this pain you? Is this really pain?
Does this pain you? Is this really pain?
Bottom-feeder, bottom-feeder-
The garden burns as does the seeder,
Suicide swings along the feeter on the highway to hell, but I'm a nonbeliever.
**So you have your book and you've built your towers,
But does your faith constitute strength or does it make you a coward?**
I've been to a hundred holy places,
Heard a thousand sermons,
But most I value all the learning that I gained from all my searching.
Certain death, it's certain death, it's what they told me would happen if I got up and left,
And sure I'm troubled, I struggle, and I'm not the best,
But I'm sure there exists better answers than this.
Because what is a life,
To be governed by some verses that we can't know are right?
And you tell me that my faith is weak,
But you ignore any options, shut me down, and just claim deceit.
I want a refund, here's my receipt, because if I must bow down to something angry at me,
Then I might as well just off myself,
I'd rather die on my feet that survive on my knees.
I say all this, not out of spite, not out of resentment, I'm not mad at life.
**I'm just stating that it could be something more, something else,
Than a choice between heaven or hell.**
You wanna save me? But is this really saved?
Is there something wrong with who I am? Or will this god only love me if I change?
Is that it? Am I not enough to work? It's a concept I've struggled with since birth,
And if He's there and I don't have a choice, then why won't He answer,
I've never heard a voice.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC